Suns Inside
by Floor-Ninja
Summary: They didn't need a hard-link to feel connected. But...it helps. Post Episode 28.


**Author:** Ninja  
**Description:** _They didn't need a hard-link to feel connected. __But...it helps._  
**Timeline:** Post Episode 28  
**Characters:** Gunmax and Shadowmaru. May contain hints of G/S.  
**Rated:** T for Gunmax's mouth.

* * *

"_Admit it_," Gunmax said around the tip of the gas can pressed to his lips. "You weren't paying attention and hit a bird."

"Your disbelief wounds me," came the reply. "Some of us watch where we're going."

Gunmax swung his right leg over his left and stretched the metallic soles of his feet from his spot on the floor. The back of his helmet lolled against the wall behind him until he could see the winged silhouette of Shadowmaru against the overhead lights of the maintenance bay. The violet mech was quarter-turned away and inspecting the recent repairs done on one of his wings. Below him, just past Gunmax's outstretched legs, a group of human engineers were putting away the scaffolding used to work on the much taller Braves.

"It should be good as new," the lead mechanic said from somewhere below Shadowmaru's knees. The dark-haired human then smiled sheepishly and tipped his hat when Shadowmaru looked down at him. "But if you'd like we can get Chief Toudou to look at it tomorrow when he gets in."

Though Gunmax didn't have a good view of Shadowmaru's face from his spot on the floor he could still hear the smile in the ninja's voice when Shadowmaru replied, "That won't be necessary. Thank you for the patch."

"Not a problem," the mechanic responded. "We'll be off then." He joined the other engineers who had begun to wheel the scaffolding back to its appointed alcove, leaving Shadowmaru alone with his green and gold-accented shadow.

Gunmax let the canister drop from his lips before changing his mind and taking another sip. His fuel levels were fine and the can was almost empty but he enjoyed the sensation of manipulating something with his hands – that and it made him look badass, presumably. "I bet," he began, swallowing the last bit of fuel, "if I looked, I'd see feathers."

Shadowmaru spun on a heel and cocked his head. His arms came to cross over the star-shaped emblem on his chest. "Is that so, Mr. Motorcycle? It couldn't be worse than those bugs in your teeth."

Gunmax nearly choked and the gas can fell once more. "_What?!_"

"My scanners indicate a number of organic compounds wedged here," Shadowmaru made a vague motion with his finger, indicating his own mouth, "and there." The green optics flashed and the corner of Shadowmaru's mouth tilted upward when the finger retreated. "I thought you liked the look or I might have said something."

There was no reason to believe Shadowmaru – indeed, there were many reasons _not _to believe Shadowmaru – but Gunmax couldn't help reaching up and baring his dental plates for careful inspection. He did so with his head turned away from the standing Brave in hopes the position would conceal what he was doing, but Shadowmaru's laugh indicated otherwise.

"Ha _hah_," Gunmax mimicked, sure to inject as much sarcasm into each syllable as possible. He turned his head to make a face at Shadowmaru and remembered to jerk his fingers out of his mouth at the last second. "At least a bug has never caused _me_ to come crawling into the repair bay." Despite everything he found himself grinning. It couldn't be helped. It never could; not in Shadowmaru's presence.

"So much bluster over routine maintenance," Shadowmaru said and shook his head with a small smile. "Just how bored _are_ you, Gunmax?"

"You're not scheduled for another two days." Gunmax's pliable lips quirked ever upward. He made a vague gesture with his hand. "So, how big was it?"

Shadowmaru's frame stiffened. "I did _not_ hit a bird," he grumbled. Gunmax could almost see the wings ruffle.

Glorious.

Gunmax smirked and set the canister on the ground beside his hip, thus freeing his arms to throw them behind his head. His helmet tilted back and he made sure Shadowmaru could catch a flash of his amber optics as he made a show of scrutinizing the pouty-lipped ninja before him. "Mh-hmm."

Shadowmaru squinted. It was one of those squints that seemed to come right out of a movie. Which, knowing Shadowmaru, was entirely possible. Gunmax still had to return his copy of _Die Hard_.

The two mechs sized each other up.

In all honesty, picking a fight with Shadowmaru was not a good idea. The ninja was incredibly skilled and had who-knows-how-much blackmail at his disposal (okay, Gunmax had no evidence of this, but if he had stealth capabilities you'd bet your ass _he'd_ have a hearty chunk of blackmail at his disposal.) More than that, picking a fight with Shadowmaru was – and Gunmax had learned this the hard way, back when they'd first met in front of the Hourglass and again when he'd discovered the ninja was his new deskmate – nigh _impossible_. Therefore it didn't surprise the biker when Shadowmaru's look of indignation vanished and a small grin took its place. Gunmax, suspicious at the change, felt the joints of his armor tense. That was the other thing about Shadowmaru – he gave as good as he got.

It was something else Gunmax liked about him. Therefore it came as no additional surprise when the motorcycle detective felt his own grin emerge.

"Shall I prove it?" the shapeshifter inquired.

Gunmax's optics narrowed behind his visor. He brought his head down and his arms followed suit. "How?" he asked.

Shadowmaru tapped the violet metal of his helmet. "Easy enough, don't you think?"

It took a moment for Gunmax to digest the implication.

Wha – oh. Oh.

Hmm.

That... had been no idle gesture. Shadowmaru had touched the protective casing that housed his memory units. Beneath lay his primary interface port.

"Hey now, Master Gunmax," Shadowmaru goaded when the green mech didn't answer right away. "Where's all that confidence? I'm not booby trapped."

Gunmax's lips parted to form a reply before they shut again.

Huh.

This was...

Hmm.

It wasn't the offer that surprised him. It wasn't even the fact that he'd never thought of linking up to another Brave before. No, his surprise had entirely different roots – he was surprised Shadowmaru would ever extend the offer to begin with. He was surprised Shadowmaru trusted him enough to do so. He was surprised that _he _trusted Shadowmaru enough to –

– to consider it to begin with; to have his kneejerk reaction be a flippant mental _Sure. Why not?_

Gunmax realized he'd been staring off into space.

"Gunmax?"

Damn it.

"I wasn't being entirely serious."

He knew that. _Damn_ it.

"I know this is somewhat intim-"

It had happened so easily. There had been no single dramatic moment, no impromptu whirlwind adventure that had brought them together, but it had still happened – somehow –

_Damn_ it.

"So, you want me to pop it in or you?" Gunmax blurted.

Shadowmaru's optics widened by a fraction. Either Gunmax's response had surprised him or the ninja was just glad the biker hadn't gone completely catatonic. "Really now?" he seemed to wonder aloud, his voice thoughtful.

"Why not?" Gunmax wheedled, squashing his rising discomfort. "Oh, wait, I forgot." He smirked. "You have something to hide."

Shadowmaru's smile sharpened. "Doesn't all that sarcasm hurt after a while?"

"Hurt?" Gunmax waggled one of his feet back and forth while looking a lot more at ease than he felt. "Being me doesn't hurt at all, **baby**."

When? When had it happened?

And why didn't it bother him?

Shadowmaru reached up and activated his interface hatch. It was a subtle movement: One quick flick of the finger, a small click and a shifting metal plate was all it took. There was nothing new about the sight – nothing new about the proposed _act_, as they'd all interfaced with the precinct computers at one point and routinely interfaced with their docking stations during repairs – but Gunmax found himself feeling suddenly anxious for reasons that were _highly _suspicious.

Damn it.

As Shadowmaru began unraveling a small connector cable, Gunmax realized that of all the Braves the one mech most familiar with the violet mech's internals had to be him. They were repaired together. They served similar functions. They were as similar as entirely different people could be. It showed in their work and the amount of time they spent together outside of it; there was an unspoken sense of solidarity between them. The ninja was the only one who got Gunmax's stupid jokes more than half the time. It was a little hard not to gravitate to the guy.

There'd also been the whole Chieftain mess and the injuries and the...yeah. Gunmax hadn't been too familiar with the precinct repair bay before then. He couldn't say he'd ever been too familiar with his own insides or those of a certain shapeshifter, either, until the day he'd drifted in and out of consciousness to the sound of dripping fuel and sparking cables and the half-dead hum of Shadowmaru's salt-encrusted frame as it struggled to stay online. Meanwhile everyone else had been running around trying to save Deckerd as his own body was being jolted about like a possessed ragdoll and – _yeah_.

Gunmax had familiarized himself with a lot of things since then.

Shadowmaru knelt down. Gunmax, still entrenched in (rather unhappy) thought, took a moment to realize said ninja was holding the end of a cable in front of his face. The end was thin and delicate and glinted under the overhead light.

"Last chance to back out," Shadowmaru teased. He was smiling but there was something serious in his eyes that seemed to hint that backing out was a perfectly viable option.

Gunmax eyed the connector.

No, memory interfacing wasn't a new concept. Sometimes circumstance necessitated Toudou to patch into their A.I. and perform a memory scan, and as far as Gunmax could remember it had never hurt. It felt strange, sure, but painful? No. This was the exact same procedure, only this time the presence on the other end of the line would be another Brave.

(Hell, one time McCrane had nearly had every one of his memory units _removed_, a story Power Joe enjoyed telling because it freaked out Drillboy. And Gunmax, to a smaller extent. Not that he would ever admit it. No one would ever be sticking their fingers in _his _head, thanks.)

Shadowmaru hadn't moved.

"Sure," Gunmax announced. He reached back and popped open the port of his helmet. There was a gentle hiss of pressurized air as the metal plates slid aside and locked back into his cranial case. He jerked his head at the cable delicately pinched between Shadowmaru's fingers and then nodded. "Stick it in."

Shadowmaru's optics flickered in a blink.

"**What?**" Gunmax asked.

"That was...hm."

"Hm."

"Yes."

"Hm?"

"_Hmm_."

"Intimidated by my flawless engineering, I see."

Shadowmaru chuckled. "Shouldn't I buy you dinner first?"

"Flowers," Gunmax drawled. "Later."

The ninja laughed and leaned in and suddenly Gunmax felt careful, practiced fingers dancing across the metal of his helmet and the sense of something static and charged, then a _snap_ and a brief jolt and a sudden flare of input that washed over him in waves, sucking him under until he felt-

-normal.

"Huh," Gunmax uttered, unsure what he'd been expecting. Shadowmaru had shifted onto the floor beside him. The shapeshifter's wings tapped against the wall and scraped at the plaster overhead.

"Let's see," Shadowmaru said and folded his own hands on his lap. Gunmax glanced over, not wanting to jostle his head around too much; an almost tickling sensation of weight informed him that Shadowmaru was connected. Out of the corner of his visual feed he could see the tiny cable stretched between them that disappeared into the open hatch on the side of Shadowmaru's head. The ninja's optics had faded to a deep gray tinted green. Gunmax shrugged and followed suit, cutting his visual feed to its lowest setting and switching most of his supplementary systems to idle.

Everything was quiet at first. With his awareness of the outside world dulled, Gunmax found himself paying extra attention to the tendrils of energy that made up his internal circuitry. It was kind of boring.

_Input, output. _

Something reached out to him.

Gunmax's thoughts – elaborate streams of data coalescing and branching outward – zeroed in on the sudden presence. Something bumped against his awareness and caused the streams to shift and ripple across his A.I.. It felt identical to when Toudou was patching into their cortex, but this was more than a vague impression of another mind against his as translated through the bumbling machinations of a third party machine – it _was_ another mind.

Instinctual unease surged in Gunmax and he quickly squashed it, throwing up quick mental barriers and firewalls to help partition off his emotions. The presence in his mind seemed to wiggle as though stretching itself out. It made no move to move further in, however, much less breach the blocks Gunmax had in place.

The biker almost felt silly. Almost.

/Hmm,/ a voice said without warning. It prodded at Gunmax, friendly and warm. /Cozy in here./

/Oh, please,/ Gunmax snorted, /make yourself at home./

/Do you have refreshments?/

/I'm sure I have a doggie bowl somewhere./

Shadowmaru chuckled, or at least gave the impression that he did. There was no mistaking it as Shadowmaru; the ninja's signature and demeanor were the same and when he spoke the voice was the same, right down to the subtle prickle of static the resounded soundlessly as strands of thought. It surprised Gunmax that absolutely nothing about the other mech seemed to have changed. For some reason he had thought he would be treated to a different side of Shadowmaru without the physical world to separate them. Gunmax turned this knowledge over in his head, frowning mentally and careful to keep his disquiet shielded from the other mech.

Did _he_ feel different?

/Now then,/ Shadowmaru began. His presence seemed to ripple. /Allow me to prove you wrong./

Gunmax felt Shadowmaru's consciousness withdraw into itself and for a moment he wondered if the ninja was aware of how tightly Gunmax had locked his own consciousness away. If Shadowmaru _had _noticed (and upon consideration Gunmax had no doubt the ninja had indeed noticed, since there wasn't much Shadowmaru missed) then he'd never ask. That was just how Shadowmaru was. He didn't judge. Someone like Gunmax, complicated as he was, appreciated that quality in a person.

And now he felt guilty. Why did he feel guilty?

Annoying.

/Have you done this before?/ he found himself asking, curious as to what the other mech was doing. /With another mech, I mean./

/Hm? Yes,/ Shadowmaru answered. /Yes, a few times./

/Really,/ Gunmax drawled. /For what?/

/Practice. It's crucial for an information expert to know how this kind of thing works./

/Hacking?/

/That's part of it. It's also a useful method of monitoring systems in the event of code re-writes or other modifications./

/With who?/

This time Shadowmaru did not answer immediately. When he did, his reply was soft. /It was... before I came here./ Gunmax felt the ninja's consciousness uncurl. /Ah, here we are. Come on in./ Shadowmaru transmitted a packet of data. Gunmax opened it and inspected the string of numbers. It was a rudimentary access code – a free pass into Shadowmaru's systems, useful for bypassing unnecessary checks and just about anything else.

The biker double-taked. He then double-taked again, making it a triple.

/**Unbelievable**,/ Gunmax uttered.

/What?/ Shadowmaru spoke up. /Did you expect me to enter permissions for you at every turn? You must have me confused with someone far more energetic./

/You just gave me-/

/A skeleton key? More or less./

/And why-?/

/Because my system has enough firewalls, anti-viral programs and code breakers to make Japan's own Great Wall. And as I mentioned: I'm rather lazy./

/Are you _trying_ to show me up?/

/I've never seen someone so offended by a welcome,/ Shadowmaru chortled. /However, my superiority is obvious./

/Just a friendly reminder that you turn into a _dog_./

/_Wolf. _Among other things./

/Such as an asshole./

/A handsome one, too. Much like yourself./

Gunmax laughed.

Shadowmaru retaliated by opening access to his memory units. Gunmax took the bait before he could second-guess his decision. The next thing he knew, he was... surrounded.

_Sensory input, _the green mech realized, momentarily overwhelmed. Accessing one's own memory storage was one thing; being suddenly deluged with a lifetime's worth of information (short as a lifetime was for the Braves themselves) from someone else was different. Gunmax pulled himself to the edge of the ocean of information and nestled amid rows of more recent memory storage. He could feel a vague rush of something brushing against him, and when he inspected it he realized it was Shadowmaru's short term memory – the here and now, shifting and morphing with every second that ticked by on their chronometer.

/See?/ Shadowmaru tittered. /Not a booby trap in sight. Not any more, anyway./

/Cleaned house before I came?/

/I might have brushed a few things under the rug./

/How thoughtful./

Shadowmaru pulled up a cluster of memory packets and began rifling through him. Gunmax hung back, gathering his bearings and taking stock of the wealth of information around him. Most of it was packaged and would need to be accessed before he'd know what it was but even the smallest brush was enough to leave an impression of what each memory contained: a flash of color, a taste, a smell, a sound.

Content aside, Shadowmaru's memory storage was identical to his own. Something about it struck Gunmax as _wrong_, though. The feeling intensified. When he realized what it was that was bothering him he almost didn't know what to say.

That had never stopped him before. /Shadowmaru,/ he snapped, startled, /where are the blocks?/

Shadowmaru selected one of the memory packets he'd pulled up. Gunmax could feel the other mech's attention light on him. /What do you mean?/

/Everything is.../ Gunmax frowned. /Don't you have locks on any of these?/

/No./

Gunmax said nothing for a moment. /**What?**/

/Why should I?/ Shadowmaru asked, setting the memory aside when Gunmax's unease became palpable.

/**Come on**,/ Gunmax insisted. /You don't care that I could see everything?/

/Seems unnecessary given what I've given to you./

/That's not the point,/ Gunmax said. He knew that Shadowmaru knew that wasn't the point. He just _knew_ him.

/I have nothing to hide,/ Shadowmaru explained with what felt like infinite patience. It seemed to spring from the same well of patience Deckerd had taken to giving Gunmax whenever the biker did something obnoxious. Y'know, the kind of patience that's irritating and endearing all at once. Or maybe that was just Gunmax. /Well, aside from some confidential information entrusted to me which has been tagged accordingly. I trust you not to peek./

/Unbelievable./

/I would know if you peeked, anyway, and stop you./

/You really don't care that I'm here./

It was supposed to be a question. It didn't come out as one. It didn't _have_ to because Gunmax already knew the answer and could already feel himself reacting to it.

_When?_

Something inside Shadowmaru stirred. Before Gunmax could see exactly what it was it had vanished, and the green mech had the distinct impression that had more to do with Shadowmaru tucking it away than it disappearing on its own. The ninja seemed to choose his next words carefully.

/You know you're always welcome, Gunmax. Wherever that may be./

/That right?/ Gunmax had no reason to doubt him. He still wanted to hear it.

/Yes. I don't mind./ There was a pause. /It was...different before./

/Getting a little vague on me here, **agent canine**./

/Before you came./

They must have had this conversation a hundred times by now. They usually had it at their desk or out on patrol when it was just the two of them because the Build Team was stuck together tighter than glue and Deckerd was usually out with Yuuta or, more recently, the new addition Duke. Gunmax's reply was nigh _automatic_.

/**Ha!** Slow, you mean./

Shadowmaru always smiled here. He did so now, in that strange intangible way. /Uninteresting,/ he added on cue.

/No sense of class./

/Giant pandas./

/Big desk all to yourself./

/Quiet./

/Keh. _Too_ quiet./

The two of them grew quiet themselves, then; right on cue. Gunmax hadn't realized just how relaxed he'd become until he became aware of his own weight. Like a thick fog the anxiety had crept away, the last desperate grasp of its tendrils trailing his being and making him aware of the feeling of suspension. It was a weird feeling.

/So, what?/ Gunmax said after a moment. /You don't hide anything from me because I'm just that good?/

/You understand how trust works./

Something that felt a lot like a knot formed somewhere in Gunmax's core. It pulled down, breaking the suspension. It brought with it faces that flickered through his A.I. in quick succession: Humans. Mechs. Yuuta. Deckerd. Shadowmaru. And, unbidden, Kirisa- _him_.

/Yeah,/ Gunmax heard himself say. Even his thought-voice sounded stiff. /What of it?/

/Then I don't need to explain why./

The knot uncurled. Warmth spread outward. Gunmax considered the feeling and knew it for what it was because while Gunmax was many things, an idiot was not one of them.

_Damn_ it.

_When?_

/No regrets?/ Gunmax fired off in a mental huff. /Mistakes?/

Silence. Gunmax got the sudden feeling that he had gone too far and was on the cusp of apologizing when Shadowmaru seemed to sigh. /Yes,/ was the answer. /I have those./

Awkwardness enveloped the green mech. His usual approach to combating awkwardness was acting like an asshole, but that didn't seem appropriate. He decided to try something else.

/Let me guess. Those are tagged too?/ ...Okay, yeah. That still came off more sarcastic than he'd intended. Gunmax grimaced.

Shadowmaru must have guessed what he was attempting because he seemed to smile. /They are./ He then added, /They're difficult memories, but I'm not ashamed of them./

/How so?/

Gunmax knew he was overstepping boundaries. Then again, when had boundaries ever meant anything to Gunmax, physical or otherwise? Since when had they ever stopped him from following his gut and making the hard choices so others didn't have to? It certainly hadn't stopped him in the Highway Patrol. It hadn't stopped him when he'd first joined the Brave Police. It definitely hadn't stopped him with Deckerd. It always paid off – for good or bad, Gunmax _always_ got results. Sometimes they were the best decisions he ever made. Sometimes they weren't.

He'd made some good ones lately. Maybe this was another.

Gunmax wanted an answer.

/Because,/ Shadowmaru began, /my mistakes were the result of choices I made. The ability to choose... isn't that a wonderful thing?/

That was..._not _the answer Gunmax had expected. He wasn't sure if he liked it, either. /And if it hurts?/ he pressed.

Shadowmaru made a sympathetic sound. /Some time ago, someone told me the ability to hurt was a gift./

Gunmax snorted. /Some gift./

/I agree with her, though it was hard to hear at the time. To not be able to feel at all, to lack the ability to care enough to be hurt – wouldn't that be worse?/

Kirisaki smiled somewhere in the back of Gunmax's head.

/And?/ Gunmax snapped, irritation flooding through him. /And if it doesn't stop hurting?/

/Then you must have cared a great deal./

Kirisaki laughed.

The flash of irritation, sharp and hot, grew cold and brittle.

/That supposed to make me feel better?/ Gunmax grunted. He had no idea when the conversation had taken such a personal turn. No, that wasn't true. He did know because he'd made the turn himself.

It just felt so damn cathartic.

/No,/ the ninja admitted. /But it was a compliment nonetheless./

Kirisaki vanished.

_...Thanks_.

/Well,/ Gunmax managed, /it's a shock, but I do have a heart./

/Shocking, sure./ Some of the tension that had permeated their bond dissipated. /But I know. So do the others, in their own way./

/Do you? **Oh, no**! I'll have to act nicer from now on./

/Dekkado would faint,/ Shadowmaru played along. /So would Vice-Commissioner Azuma./

/Chief would insist on inspecting me for errors./ Gunmax felt himself grinning. /Maybe I should try it sometime. Get everyone worked up./

/Imagine if you started fueling through your tank cap instead of your mouth,/ Shadowmaru tittered. /Imagine Dekkado's face if he saw./

/He'd flip!/ Gunmax laughed. /I'd be a bigger boyscout than he is./

/Everyone would be begging for the old Gunmax within the day./

/Everyone except Azuma. _Ay, ay_, no thanks. Even the thought makes me sick./

/Let me make it up to you,/ Shadowmaru offered. He pulled up the memory he had set aside earlier. /Less we forget what we're here for./

Oh. Yeah, Gunmax had kind of forgotten about that.

/Ah, right,/ he said. /The real reason you had to be sent to the repair bay./ He made a mental cough that sounded suspiciously like _bird. _Shadowmaru huffed.

Feeling much more at ease, Gunmax gave the memory a cursory glance before lazily firing off the access code Shadowmaru had sent him.

It opened, jolting Gunmax forward into-

_-the sky._

_Threadbare streaks of black, navy and violet litter the horizon. The stars are... bright, but far away. The sun rests against the ocean; brilliant orange, a globe of fire registering on the heat sensor. The ocean below shimmers and breathes. Deeper still lies darkness: a world of pressure and loss and memory._

_Air currents sweep across his plating and activate every sensor, tugging at every part of him like guiding hands. He shifts, one wingtip trembling and slicing through the nearest cloud. A trail of white lies behind him, condensation spiraling down the sloped metal of his wings. The world below is small, but close._

_The sky rumbles. Light lances through the clouds. He watches the shoreline, unbothered by the shift in air pressure, the plates of his armor shifting and tightening to accommodate. Everything flies by in a blur, all color and motion in three-dimensions, up and over and down. Tiny pinpricks of heat and weight and sound flick by as data; people, life, movement._

_The sky rumbles again when veins of white erupt outward. The lightning crackles, prickling at every part of him. He turns to head back to base and activates his transmitter to hail whoever might be there for his report._

_White fills his vision. There's a sharp eruption of pain followed by a crackling of energy lancing up his frame, pooling from the joint of his wing. He spirals suddenly, confused and disoriented, the air around him screaming._

_Then, as suddenly as it began, everything rights itself. His navigational systems kick on, his thrusters in overdrive which send him careening back up and pitching to his side before he knows which way is what. Everything seems to wobble, and through the numb throbbing of his wing, he feels... good. Energy tickles his undercarriage and licks across his transformation seams, making him light-headed. He slips into a lazy roll, giddiness taking over, around and around and around and-_

-the memory ended.

For a long moment Gunmax had trouble discerning where he ended and Shadowmaru began. When he'd managed to untangle the reality from the memory, he slowly – _very_ slowly – turned his attention to the actual Shadowmaru who was sitting very quietly inside his head.

/You,/ Gunmax said, not bothering to disguise the shock in his voice, /were hit by _lightning_?/

Shadowmaru "shifted." /Yes./

A few beats of silence passed. /You,/ Gunmax continued, the astonishment melting away into pure, unfettered amusement, /were _so drunk_./

/I was not drunk./

/You were _giggling_./

Shadowmaru gave him a mental nudge. /I giggle all the time,/ he insisted. /Surely you've noticed./

/Oh, no. No, no no,/ Gunmax snickered. /You won't take the fun out of this. _Lightning, _Shadowmaru!/ He wanted to shake him and laugh in his face and possibly fall out all over his white-thighed lap in the process but reigned in the urge. Dignity and all that.

/It wasn't worth it, in case you were wondering./

/Do you usually look for an excuse to patrol during storms?/ Gunmax could barely contain himself. The mysterious and competent Shadowmaru, of all mechs! Or so the ninja would have others believe, anyway. Gunmax? Gunmax knew better. /Do you ever crash into the ocean? Make friends with fish?/

/I'll have you know I'm a responsible driver,/ Shadowmaru sniffed. /I made it back in one piece, and I only stumbled a little./

/Did the commissioner say anything?/

/He thought there might be something wrong with my equilibrium chip. I insisted it would right itself./

/No wonder you sounded off when you first came in./ The biker _hmm_'d. /I'm having a hard time deciding which is funnier: The idea of you hitting a bird or the truth./ Still contemplating this, Gunmax filed this knowledge away for personal use. It was then that he noticed the tags Shadowmaru had assigned the memory.

SOLO FLIGHT – 103 uses  
LESSON LEARNED – 42 uses  
SOMETHING TO TRY AGAIN AT A LATER TIME – 23 uses

/Naughty,/ Gunmax observed and was unsurprised when he felt Shadowmaru ripple with amusement. /"Not worth it," hm?/

/I have my days./

/Try weeks./ Gunmax gave the information a mental flick. /The tags for me had better talk about my charm, wit and hot bod./

/Why not look?/

A listing for _some_ of Shadowmaru's most popularly used tags drifted up from the streams of data. Gunmax didn't even bother to act uninterested and instead pounced on the information while Shadowmaru innocently went about re-packaging the memory. Who knew if he would ever have this opportunity again?

KAGEROU – 382 uses  
MINIBOSS ACTING CUTE – 834 uses  
BUILD TEAM – 503 uses  
MASTER DECKERD – 589 uses  
VICE-COMMISSIONER AZUMA BEING TSUNDERE – 477 uses  
GUNMAX – 421 uses  
POWER JOE HAVING AN ALTERCATION – 312 uses  
GUNMAX EXPRESSING HIS COMMAND OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE – 281 uses  
OTHER BRAVES MAKING UNINTENTIONAL OVERTURES – 65 uses  
AS SEEN THROUGH THE CEILING – 956 uses

/Really,/ Gunmax tsked. /I'm disappointed./

/What is it that disappoints you, master?/

/I was hoping my tag would be more creative./

The data shifted.

TAG: **GUNMAX** HAS BEEN CHANGED TO TAG: **MR. MOTORCYCLE**.

/Mmh. No. Try again./

TAG: **MR. MOTORCYCLE** HAS BEEN CHANGED TO TAG: **HOT BOT**.

/Ah-ha! Now _this_ I can live with./

/I'll be sure to use sparkle-text as well next time./

/I've spotted another mistake,/ Gunmax continued, ignoring the jibe. /I did a search, and "dog" didn't come up once./

/Ahh, see, I've settled on a compromise,/ Shadowmaru argued, emanating smugness. /The tag is "canine."/

/Hnh. Fair enough./ It occurred to Gunmax that since Shadowmaru had shown him the memory there was no reason for the two of them to be hooked up any more. He was on the verge of pointing out as much when he stopped. He just...stopped.

_When?_

No... no, there was something he needed to do.

/It seems I've exhausted my stay,/ Shadowmaru was saying. The stealth mech's presence softened, growing distant as he withdrew. One by one the pinpricks of memory began to dull, shutting off and fading away with the slowing ebb of foreign data. /Now you know. How sad to be wrong, hm?/

/Wait./

Shadowmaru paused. Gunmax's voice was rough with uncertainty.

/Yes, Gunmax?/

The biker could feel the other Brave waiting. If he stretched his awareness far enough and brushed against an internal circuit or two he could even feel the physical weight of his own frame; the coolness of the air, the hardness of the floor, the idling of his engine and the sensation of someone else sitting beside him. That someone was Shadowmaru, of course. He could dimly make out the other mech's face through the low-powered visual feed. The ninja's expression was slack and dark and peaceful-looking, as though he were sleeping. Gunmax wondered if he looked like that as well.

He also wondered when the tides had been reversed. At first it had felt like Shadowmaru was the one invading his A.I., but now that Shadowmaru had invited him in, Gunmax found that he could touch anything he wanted and there was nothing to stop him save his sense of ethic. Surrounded by such deceptively simple trust and openness, _Gunmax_ was the one who felt like the invader. Sure, Shadowmaru didn't appear to mind, but did it matter? What did that change?

What did that _mean_?

_To not be able to feel at all, to lack the ability to care enough to be hurt – wouldn't that be worse?_

/You think you had it bad?/ Gunmax asked and made his move.

With a shuddering _snap_ the walls that surrounded his consciousness came down. Shadowmaru barely had time to register surprise before Gunmax transmitted a keycode and opened access to his own memory storage. The shapeshifter's uncertainty and bafflement were palpable. Gunmax took a moment to preen, pleased that he'd managed to catch the unshakeable Shadowmaru off-guard.

/What is...?/

/Thought you knew your way around, Shadowmaru./

The other mech went unusually quiet. Gunmax took the opportunity to scrutinize his own databanks. His weren't a fraction as ordered as Shadowmaru's. His tag listing was practically a safety hazard. He nearly forgot to offline his more aggressive firewalls until he felt his system begin to backtrace Shadowmaru's signature and put a hard stop to it. If the ninja noticed he didn't say anything.

There was method to the madness, however. Gunmax could navigate his own A.I. with ease and the key Shadowmaru now possessed would work just as well for him. The biker pulled out a memory from a seemingly disorganized jumble and shoved it at the other mech. /A comparison,/ he prompted.

Shadowmaru seemed to come alive at the nudge. /Comparing what?/ the winged Brave inquired. /Embarrassing moments?/

/**Bingo**./

Shadowmaru gave a mental blink. There was a beat of silence. /If you insist,/ he said, curiosity coloring his voice. The memory activated.

_On the floor._

_He stares at the floor, then at the bike beside him. Brown, runny oil trickles down his arms and across his joints. He rocks back on his knees, the world spinning, trying to distinguish voices before pitching forward again. His tanks roil. _

"_Gunmax!" A familiar voice, half-disgusted, half-laughing. Kirisaki. "You're not supposed to drink the whole thing at once!"_

"_Is he okay?" Yet another voice; engineer. He teeters on his hands and knees, tries to pick himself up._

"_Woah, woah!"_

"_I'm...okaysh," he slurs, cupping at his mouth._

"_Wasn't that the premium stuff?"_

"_Did he short something? I don't think all his caps were closed-"_

"_Is he even supposed to ingest oil like that? Like...drink it?"_

"_I think he saw me do it." Kirisaki again. "Come on, Gunmax. Let's get you up."_

_Tiny hand on his arm. He looks up, visuals blurry and white around the edges. Weird images. He tries to focus on the familiar. Turns his head. Topples over._

"_Guys," he says, trying to point at the oil, wondering why his hand just flops. "This is recyclable, right?"_

_The humans pale one by one. He looks at his stained hand, barely hears Kirisaki snickering._

"_Unbelievable," Kirisaki says. "Come on, get up. Online for three days and already wasted. Just what kind of partner did I get, huh?"_

"_Unbelievable," he repeats. Then, in English: "_**Unbereebable**_."_

"_Happy drunk, huh?__And don't ask me how..."_

Gunmax wasn't sure if Shadowmaru would ever stop laughing. It didn't seem that way when the last vestiges of the memory slipped away, leaving Gunmax with the distinct impression of being covered in regurgitated oil.

/I must admit,/ Shadowmaru confessed once he'd managed to wrangle the flood of amusement, /that _was_ worse than mine./

/Told you,/ Gunmax retorted. He filed the memory away, though not before giving it one last tentative brush and lingering over the image of Kirisaki's laugh-lined face that flickered in response. Shadowmaru's chuckles died away.

/A shame,/ the ninja ventured after a moment's pause. Gunmax stirred. Had he seen? Without the blocks in place... Shadowmaru's voice, though sympathetic, betrayed nothing. /He seemed agreeable./

/He put on a good act./ Gunmax's reply was bitter.

/Now he can continue to put on acts in prison./ Shadowmaru gave the biker another mental prod. /We have Master Dekkado to thank for that./

/As usual./ Gunmax smiled at the memory. He was thankful that the smile wasn't physical and easily concealed, though he did wonder if Shadowmaru could sense it anyway. He found he didn't mind if the ninja did.

_When?_

Another beat of silence passed between them. Gunmax could feel his consciousness gravitating outward, becoming more and more aware of his physical form. The feeling of suspension returned.

/Would you like to meet Kagerou?/

The question roused Gunmax from his nostalgia and effectively drew him back in. Meet..?

More memories?

/You never had a chance to,/ the ninja hurried. Shadowmaru then hesitated. /Most of the others did. Briefly. Although.../

/Not sure it counts?/

/No. It was a confusing time./ There was another pause. Shadowmaru was obviously struggling, though the depth of his struggle was concealed from Gunmax's view.

/I read the reports,/ Gunmax offered. He knew who Kagerou was. Had been.

/Seeing them... It's different./

_Kirisaki._

/Ah, well,/ Shadowmaru seemed to say to himself. /Nevermind. It was just a thought./

_To not be able to feel at all, to lack the ability to care enough to be hurt – wouldn't that be worse?_

/I've got time,/ Gunmax replied.

The world about them rippled, memories shifting, color and shape and warmth unfurling like the sun.


End file.
